This is a piece dedicated to anyone who has had a shit birthday (whether you choose to remember it or not).
Keep in mind - this is fictional.
Birthday Blowout.
Today I woke up, ready to relish in the spoils and lifestyle of that who celebrates a birthday.
Today it was my turn.
That one day of the year, where you (and only you) get to decide what to eat, what you will do, who you wil spend it with; the one day of the year, you can treat everybody like complete crap and they (in return) shower you with gifts.
I woke up expecting that morning.
I hear the buzzing of my phone and see a dear friend has sent me a birthday text - one of many I will recieve throughout the day.
Breakfast is made for me and I'm waiting to open my present.
This was the first disaster.
*
My Mum had been talking for weeks about getting a stereo which she could plug her Ipod in. The idea of putting it on loud speaker while she did housework (I would just like to point out, my Mum does minimal housework and it is often done by my Dad and I) means she can dance while sweeping, dusting, whatever needed to be done.
I agreed it would be a good idea, for Mother's Day, or her birthday prehaps, and I made a mental note.
*
Alas, when I opened my present this morning, there sat the sound system Mum had been bragging about for weeks.
This upset me; not because the sound system was crap or I didn't want it, it was because it was what Mum wanted - and now instead of getting it for her, she could pick something else she wanted down the track - while happily using my sound system - yes, my Mum is a cunning bitch.
After a dismal morning; this included getting into trouble for taking away an Ipod cord, which I sacrificed my Ipod being charged so my Mum could charge her Ipod while we were out.
And the fact all morning my Mum (yes the bitch) plugged her Ipod in the sound system and started dancing around the house. My brother came up to me and asked if it was my present or Mum's - what a smart kid - and it was pretty obvious who liked the sound system more; and no doubt, who would be using it.
So after that we went round to my Grandparents house - when my Grandfather opened the door, it was obvious he had forgotten my birthday, and there was a chilly silence in the air as my Dad tried to mouth the word "Birthday" to him.
Then my Grandmother arrived (ah dear Nanna) she didn't forget. And as she handed me an envelope (inside a card an money, was my prediction) she said
"Happy Birthday. 17 this year."
I am in fact 19 today.
So after correcting her (done with smiles and laughs) it wasn't long till my Aunty arrived.
This was OK - none of them forgot my birthday (and they new how old I was) and to top it off I recieved a good gift - finally something useful (take notes Mum).
When we got back home, I thought (no prayed) things would look up.
I had left my phone at home, so I thought there would be many texts from friends wishing me a happy birthday.
Of course there were none - none?
Only one friend had bothered (or more likely remembered) to wish me a happy birthday.
It's OK, I thought - check facebook, there's bound to be plenty of facebook messages there.
Because I am one for privacy on the internet - I don't post my birthday on there -it became clear that without the reminded of - "Today is Daydreamer's Birthday" - no one actually remembered - there were no messages on Facebook either.
But I'm glad I didn't post my birthday on there - because if I did then there would have been pages of fake well wishers and lying dick's pretending like they cared about my birthday - in which I would have believed them.
So I have five hours till my birthday ends - and unusually - I can't wait till it's over.
My only comfort is that it will be a whole year until I have to suffer the torment of having another birthday.
So lastly, "Happy Birthday to Me."
And yes, if you have read this whole post and wondering - this is not fictional - it is entirerly true.
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